Tactile Sensations
by Abydosorphan
Summary: Every time Janet donned the hazmat suit, her fingers itched beneath the gloves to reach over and touch Sam's skin.
Janet stared down at her patient lying on the hospital bed in the room below her.

It wasn't the first time that a member of SG-1 had found their way into isolation, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Sam had seriously caught the short end this time.

The stomach wound had been enough to catch Janet's immediate attention and put the doctor on alert. The infection that Sam had developed due to the wound, more than likely contracted while she was still on the planet, only complicated matters more and had guaranteed Sam a nice, comfy bed in isolation.

The bacteria acted very much like staph but had been as resistant to any and all treatments as MRSA. Sam's quarantine was two-fold; it protected her from contracting any of the pesky secondary infections that might be hanging around the infirmary and would run rampant through her already compromised immune system, and it protected the rest of the base from the possibility of the bacterial infection spreading to others.

The entire situation was killing Janet, though. She was used to situations that kept Sam away from her - often where she would have no indication as to Sam's well-being at all. She was used to situations where Sam would be injured and need her constant care and attention. Truth be told, she kind of liked it when Ms. Independent would rely on her a bit.

This was something new.

She had Sam within her sight., under her care, where she could monitor every vital she would need to, but she couldn't do something as simple as touch her, hold her hand, wipe an errant strand of hair off her forehead.

Every time Janet donned the hazmat suit, her fingers itched beneath the gloves to reach over and touch Sam's skin. More than once she'd found herself physically clenching her fists at her sides to resist the urge to rip the gloves off.

The sound of Sam's moan brought Janet's attention back to the present. Sam's temperature was rising and while that was a good indication that Sam's immune system was trying to fight off the infection, Sam's fever was already dangerously high.

Janet moved from the observation room and headed down to change into the protective gear that would allow her to get as close to Sam as was currently possible.

Once Janet was done changing the IV bag and adjusting the latest dosages of medication to assure that _if_ Sam were to get better by earthly means they had done everything possible to assist her, she took a seat in the chair at Sam's bedside. Janet knew that even though Sam was mostly delirious she would still be able to hear what was said. Janet had given that speech to people with family in comas time and again. But she couldn't bring herself to tell Sam so many of the things she wanted to under these conditions.

She wanted to have Sam over for dinner, like they did so often. Sit by the fireplace and drink their wine after putting Cassie to bed. She wanted to hold her hand and stroke her cheek, kiss her lips, make her feel loved and be loved at the same time.

She wanted Sam to be well enough to go home, even if it meant she needed to be looked after. She wanted Sam to get better and resented the fact that despite all of her degrees in immunology and infectious disease she was powerless to help the one person she loved in this world as much as her daughter.

Janet took Sam's listless hand in her gloved one and held it. Her thumb unconsciously stroking lines across Sam's skin. The pad of her thumb tingled with the need to touch Sam's skin, to feel the smooth expanse of her arm, to watch the skin break out in goose flesh as her fingers traced lackadaisical patterns up her arms. She'd taken the simple act of touching Sam for granted so many times that the fact that she couldn't do it now was beginning to drive her insane.

More than anything Janet wanted to curl up beside Sam on the couch, nuzzle her neck, kiss that sensitive spot behind her ear, wrap her arms around her and just enjoy being with her, touching her. Janet wanted to take Sam to bed and mold herself against Sam's back, her arm wrapped protectively around the other woman's midsection. She wanted to wake up in the morning and cook Sam breakfast, and watch while Sam ruffled Cassie's hair during their latest chess lesson.

The monitors connected to Sam beeped in their usual pattern and Janet released Sam's hand before she was tempted to pull her fingers from the gloves and verify personally that Sam's pulse was steady and strong. She stood from her seat and exited the isolation lab, cautiously going through the motions of removing the suit and taking all the necessary decontamination steps. Outside she felt a world away from Sam and the distance was killing her.

Janet moved back to her computer, and the research that she was doing through the SGC's medical database. She was still holding out hope that somewhere there was a clue to a cure for Sam's infection, because the way things stood now, she had her doubts that Sam would be able to pull through this on her own. By then she'd stared at Sam's blood sample so long and often that she'd know the culprit as soon as she laid eyes on it.

Finding the combination of antibiotics took longer than Janet had hoped, and any sign of Sam's improvement was slow in coming. Eventually, Sam's fever did come down and the infection seemed to be under control enough so that Janet was willing to take the risk of releasing her from isolation.

Seeing Sam's face without the distorted haze of glass between them - either from the observation window or the hazmat suit's protective face shield - was a pleasant change that brought a relieved smile to Janet's face. Once Sam's transfer had been settled and everything was in place Janet took a moment to sit in the chair by her bedside, taking Sam's hand and sighing as the tactile sensation coursed along her nerves.

Slowly, Janet took Sam's hand in both of hers and leaned over as she brought the fingers to her lips. Before long she would be able to take Sam home, take her to bed, make her breakfast and take care of her. For right now she was just content with something as simple as holding her hand, or stroking an errant strand of hair from her face. For right now, it was simply perfect to just have her this close and be able to touch her.


End file.
